


Sacrifice

by halwen



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Episode: e083 The Deceiver's Stand, F/F, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 00:05:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12287049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halwen/pseuds/halwen
Summary: Kima is many things. She is not an optimist. She does not think that they will leave this island alive.





	Sacrifice

Kima is many things. She is a Paladin of Bahamut, and a loyal friend and ally. She is strong-willed and quick to anger and quicker to laugh and she holds within herself an ember of righteous anger that will never grow cold. She is fierce and abrasive and strong and kind and she dislikes being the center of attention and she is awkward and honest and she loves Allura with everything that she is and has ever been.

She is not an optimist, and she does not think that they will leave this island alive.

Kima is aware of herself, of her abilities and their limits, and of those of her companions. She knows how to twist situations to their advantage, and how quickly confrontations can fall apart. She is painfully familiar with the extent of her own understanding, and always ensures that she keeps herself in check. She is not divine, to know the true power of any being, and would never wish to be.

She feels the crunch of ancient bone under her boot, and thinks of all the souls lost here, who had tried to assault the necromancer in his lair. Doubtless some had thought themselves prepared, had thought themselves ready, had brought armor and spells and weapons and potions and allies, but they had died all the same. She is not foolhardy enough to imagine that their party will be any different. Some had surely thought themselves imbued with holy power and divine might, and yet had died all the same. Others had surely had specialized arms and armor, as Vox Machina carries now, and still their bones lie scattered. Perhaps they had been in extremis, a last desperate hope to save a city, or perhaps they had been vandals, scavengers expecting easy pickings off a deserted ocean rock; they had died all the same, and their remains now litter the ground without distinction.

The party, Allura and Grog and Pike and Scanlan and Percy and Vex and Vax and Kerrik, progresses onward. They stumble over traps, fight skulls, skeletons, shadows, and a canny dragon who nearly manages to take them all down with her. They fight them, and improbably, impossibly, they survive, for the most part. They take down Raishan, architect of all the woe that has befallen Exandria in the last year. She takes Scanlan with her, but Vox Machina will not be stymied so easily. Their grief is ferocious but directed, focused, and Kima has no doubt that they will bring him back successfully. There are few deaths that sufficiently powerful magics cannot reverse, if there is a body to anchor them and the spirit is willing.

Her thoughts turn, inevitably, to other lives lost, with no access to powerful magic and no body to re-inhabit. So many bitter tears shed over ashy shadows and acid-splattered stonework, with only lesser magics to hand and no body to re-inhabit.

So they are victorious, the battle won, and all that remains is to get themselves to Whitestone to bring Scanlan back. They stagger out of the cavern gracelessly and watch, glassy-eyed, as Allura sets a circle in lines of glittering power. Her robes are soot-stained and bloody, her braids dark with sweat and smoke, both in contrast to the sharp lines and neat curves of the teleportation circle. She looks at Kima, takes a breath, and steps through.

Later, Allura will ask Kima how she knew, what change in the magic or shift in the air told her that something had gone wrong. Then, as now, Kima will have no answer, voice frozen in remembered and present terror; she stands stock-still as fear trickles down her neck and seeps into her chest and freezes her heart mid-beat. Something is wrong. Allura is gone and something is wrong. The circle is different, the magic is wrong, everything is wrong; everything is wrong and Allura stepped through and Allura is gone is gone is gone.

Kima follows.

Kima follows and is plunged into ice-cold water that covers her over in an instant. She fights her way to the surface, gasping for both breath and thought. Her waterlogged armor drags her down but she cannot spare either moment or motion because Allura is gone and Kima must find her. She reaches through the water frantically, terrified fingers catching at nothing at nothing at nothing at nothing at nothing at nothing

“KIMA!”

Allura is calling her name and Allura is nearby and Allura is here and Allura is gripping her hand and the water is cold and her limbs are tiring and Kima is exhausted and furious and horribly, shamefully grateful. Allura should not be here, should be safe in her ivory tower far from any danger save boredom, but she is here and Kima is here and they did their best, they succeeded, Vox Machina and Emon and Tal’Dorei and all their inhabitants will be safe.

If anyone was to prove Kima right, confirm that this mission will require a sacrifice, it is alright that it is herself and Allura. Kima would not love a world lacking Allura, and Allura has said the same. The world needs Vox Machina; Kima and Allura can be spared.

They keep swimming, fighting to stay above the water, but it is only a matter of time, now. They are both growing weaker, their breath shorter and their limbs slower. They were successful, and they are together, and now it is only a matter of time.

Behind them, out of sight, a dark speck flies closer, a larger blot following behind. Keyleth screams in Vex’s ear to hurry, and the broom picks up speed, barreling towards them desperately, Percy and the carpet in hot pursuit. Vex'ahlia dives for Allura’s hand and grasps her tight and in that moment, Kima knows they are saved. Bahamut is not kind, but neither is he cruel, and this is not the end of their story. Their end will come yet, and perhaps it will come soon, but not now. Not yet. Not today.


End file.
